Mount Rushmore

Last night, the two of us stayed up late gazing at the stars and listening to the silence.

For breakfast, Dabney whipped cream, 

Henry mixed pancake batter,

and the result was a decadent pancake, berry, and whipped cream delight.

Then we left for Mount Rushmore. On the way, we passed Crazy Horse.

We walked the presidential trail. Along the way, Henry was careful to locate the gift shop on the map. Because OF COURSE we drove all the way to SD to visit a gift shop.

The kids all got to try holding the gear used to carve the stone. 

Presidential poses.

After leaving Mount Rushmore, we stopped at Breezy Point picnic area for lunch.

Violet decorated William's hat with beautiful Violet flowers.

For dinner, we had chicken kebabs and pasta salad.

After dinner, we drove into Custer to pick up some souvenirs.

Flora looked like a great store, but the moment we walked in the door, the miscreant working there declared, "I ain't no babysitter!" William pointed out that he was RIGHT THERE. The reply, "I just get so sick of babysitting kids." We turned right back around and promptly vacated the premises.

This seemed like a much better option to end the day.

Success!

We spent the past three days driving 9-13 hours, and camping...successfully!

Here are the past three days in a nutshell.

After staying with friends in Western Mass (sorry there are no pictures, I was much too busy soaking up their company), we had breakfast at Holyoke's Kennedy Park, drove by our old house, and then hit the road. We stopped in Ohio for lunch. 

We witnessed a magnificent Indiana sunset.

We camped in northern Indiana (THIS time we parked in the RIGHT SPOT), and had pan fried biscuits and gravy for breakfast. 

The kids learned how to help with clean up.

Back on the road, windows down, hair flying in the wind.

Oh, Chicago. How the rest of Illinois hates you and your Cook County thuggery.

We stopped just within the Minnesota border for lunch. It was a HOT tender box. We ate pulled pork sandwiches, coleslaw with vinegar dressing, and cantaloupe. All I had to do to heat up the pork was to spread it out in the ziploc bag and set it in the sun on the concrete. Five minutes later (no kidding!) it was hot. Talk about harnessing the power of the sun! 

We camped in Minnesota, where we were attacked by swarms of "picnic bugs." I had never heard of them before. But I'll never forget the annoying little buggers. They attacked us and the food the entire time. 

Pancakes for breakfast.

They were a hit. 

They may be difficult to see, but in Minnesota there are fields of windmills. They resembled an army of clones.

Wall Drug, South Dakota. Advertised for hundreds of miles. But I'm not really sure why.

After passing through Wall Drug, we drove into a lovely storm.

Hill City, South Dakota. 

This is the welcome we received in South Dakota.

Camping in Custer, SD.

BBQ meatballs, cantaloupe, Brussels sprouts, and mashed sweet potato dinner. 

So far, no fast food. 

The kids are all excited because tomorrow we visit Mount Rushmore. 

Fail

This is a pot that I used to make BBQ meatballs sitting and soaking in a hotel sink, the sad result of our first camping effort.

Rolling into the RV park, we realized we were out of our element. We oozed naiveté as we rolled slowly to our hookup site. While William set up the camper, I walked Violet to the playground and the boys took off on their bikes. The kids were all wild to explore and exuberant with the thrill of the first camp site.

Violet hadn’t been playing on the playground 2 minutes when I noticed a commotion in the street. At the center of the melee was my 7 year old, who had followed his brothers in an attempt to jump a speed bump with his bike. It didn't end well. A man had stopped his car and hopped out to hover over the blond lump. Swinging his head frantically back and forth, he ushered William into the office, followed by several other kids including my own. Although I had collected Violet and started for William as soon as I realized what was going on, I couldn’t reach him before they disappeared into the check-in building. I found him mobbed by a convergence of concerned citizens.

Once I identified myself as the mother, I was assaulted with instructions to rush him to the hospital immediately, and the anxious car man pointed at the bump while loudly declaring that the child wouldn't be wearing a knot on his head if he had been wearing a helmet. 

Not. Helpful.

 Scooping the child up and making my escape, I was followed by more instructions to come back and fill out an accident report. By the time I reached the campsite, my arms and wits were shaking.

I patched the patient up with our first aid kit then made a tasty dinner of BBQ meatballs, Brussels sprouts, and baked potatoes. Although the crash victim was absolutely fine, I couldn't shake the effects of the hostility. I needed to relax, so we escaped the camp to go see a movie. Our tickets purchased, popcorn in hand and our foot inside the theater door, William's phone rang. The voice on the other side said, "We have a big problem." We had parked in the wrong spot and there was no way to appease the wrath. We couldn't pay the difference just to stay there - even though we were only parking overnight. William had to leave us as the movie started and head back to camp to pack everything right back up. Since we were only in the spot for one night and since William wasn't interested in starting the whole process over again, he procured a hotel room. 

And this is how our soaking pan of BBQ meatball drippings ended up in a hotel sink. 
First camping night on the road: fail. 

Fourth of July, 2012

Every time we cross the Bourne Bridge onto Cape Cod, I find street signs uncommonly welcoming. Brewster, Barnstable, Yarmouth, Chatham, and Wellfleeet are all names and locations dating back to the earliest days of our country's origins. I am reminded of the freedom sought by our ancestors with blood, sweat, tears, and hunger. All endured in joyful anticipation of a place where Christians could worship without fear of persecution. Our third son's name, William Bradford, is a testament to the respect we hold for their faith. What better place to celebrate our nation's birthday? 

Before dinner, Grandpa gave the boys a lesson on the Declaration of Independence.

 Following an All American Cookout, we spent July 4th, 2012 overlooking Cape Cod Bay and Race Point Lighthouse. After playing on the shore until sundown, we enjoyed Provincetown's Fireworks from a distance.

Happy Birthday, America. From here you look amazing and I love you. 

We can't wait to see more of you this summer from our temporary home:

Launched

After mad packing, crazy cleaning, four hours sleep, and 2 million trips to and from the car in 100 degree heat, we are loaded and launched. I managed fairly well. That is to say, I am still alive. William managed to snap this picture of me yesterday.

Shut up. That's just how I look after packing for a camping trip. Actually, we stayed in a hotel last night. (I know, right!?) I can't be expected to go cold turkey. Tomorrow we land at the in-laws who serendipitously live on Cape Cod. There, we will dip our toes into the camping thing in a driveway, 10 feet from a house with running water and bathrooms. In the meantime, I'm still a mom. And children still need to read, write, and crunch numbers EVERY DAY. Someday they will thank me; don't ask them how they feel today.